


Before you cross the street

by memory_bees



Series: all of my fanfics in one place [32]
Category: Dream SMP (Web Series)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Bunny Hybrid Tubbo, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Flowers, Gen, Healing, I love they, Light Angst, Michael's about 5-7 in this and can talk btw :], Nicknames, Platonic Relationships, Platonically Married Ranboo and Tubbo, Rated T for language, They're getting a healing arc bc i said so, Tubbo-centric, and a bit of non-graphic talk of past violence, i don't really know where i went with this but! i like it and that's all that matters, i'm writing this while watching ATLA for the first time pog, if i see anyone making that weird i'm going for the throat i'm using my personal designs for this, l'manberg, tubbo angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memory_bees/pseuds/memory_bees
Summary: Take my handLife is what happens to youWhile you're busy making other plans
Relationships: Ranboo & Tubbo, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Various others but you get this gist, also i got sick of tubbo's real name being in his ao3 tag L, tubbo & michael
Series: all of my fanfics in one place [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1183928
Comments: 5
Kudos: 147





	Before you cross the street

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bring Your Adoptive Son to Work Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974755) by [Kn1ghtShade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kn1ghtShade/pseuds/Kn1ghtShade). 



> Y'know the drill, strictly platonic, if any CC's mentioned say they're uncomfortable with fanfic i'll take it down immediately :]

It had been a long day, in all honesty. Tommy was still... Weird. Well, he did get murdered then revived by his murderer, but he'd died before. He and Tubbo both had, it couldn't be that different, could it? Tubbo sighed and shook the thought from his head, he had to hurry and tidy up, Michael's bedtime was soon and he wanted the house to at least be presentable before Ranboo got home. ( _Home_. How unusual was it that he finally had one of those?) He sighed as he set the books back on Michael's shelves. They were random, miscellaneous books in all honesty. Scavenged or gifts, but Michael liked stories so his fathers took what they could get. Michael was sat next to him, being allowed to shuffle through them for a bedtime story, the ones Michael didn't choose were put back up on the shelf.

He heard a tiny, confused snort come from the little zombified-piglin hybrid and Tubbo cocked an eyebrow, humming out his question.

"Papa?"

"Yeah, bug?"

Michael shifted next to him and tugged on his sleeve. Tubbo glanced over and his heart seized in his chest when he saw the book Michael was holding.

"What's L'Manberg?" Michael asked, scooting closer to him on his knees.

Tubbo blinked once, twice, before pulling Michael up and onto his lap, "It's where your dad and I used to live before-" (Before he had to watch the country he loved so much burn. before he had to stand in front of Techno's firework launcher again, before-) "Before we moved out here, and I made Snowchester!" He explained, swaying back and forth slowly.

The book was old, older than Michael, even. It was a little scrapbook from back in the Camaravan, the last time he'd pasted any pictures in it was before the Election, he's pretty sure. It's a miracle it's survived this long, and it makes Tubbo ache in a special kind of way. Longing for a home long since gone. He shifted Michael in his arms and gently ran the pads of his fingers against the leather cover, the material was worn soft. He must've looked far away (he does that sometimes, zones out, gets in his head, and sometimes he struggles to get back _out_ of it) because Michael gently nudged his chin with his tiny hand.

"Can it be my bedtime story?" The boy asked, eye wide and sparkling with intrigue.

Tubbo hesitated, he loved L'Manberg, and history is important, but L'Manberg's history was just... So bloody. War after war leaving him scarred and more tired than the one before it, "I dunno, peanut. It's not really a story, it's a-a scrapbook, y'know, you put pictures in it with happy memories? Why don't we read something else?"

Michael, stubborn as ever (Ranboo had said he picked it up from Tubbo. He didn't laugh.), whined and shook his head, "I wanna see it! Show me! Show me!" He insisted, shoving the book into Tubbo's chest.

Tubbo sighed and nodded in defeat, slowly rising to his feet with Michael in his arms with a soft grunt.

"You're getting so big, Michael," He murmured, walking them over to the bed, "I'm not going to be able to pick you up soon!" Michael shook his head, childlike defiance to a simple fact.

"Nope! Dad said I'm gonna be small forever!" Tubbo smiled warmly, settling down on Michael's bed, "Your dad is a giant, you're always going to be small compared to him. _Me,_ however, is a different story." And it was the truth, Tubbo barely came up to Ranboo's waist (stupid half enderman), and Michael was a piglin, they got to be huge if Technoblade was any frame of reference.

Tubbo let Michael get comfortable, nuzzled into his side, holding the book open. Tubbo looked around, brows furrowing. It was awfully late, shouldn't Ranboo be home by now?

"Uh, Mikey, do you want to wait for your dad to get here?" He asked, resting his hand on his son's head and gently petting his hair down. Damn stubborn cowlick just wouldn't listen and stay put.

Michael shook his head, "Nope! He'll be here soon, so you can just start!" Tubbo's lips formed a tight line, something nagging him to message Ranboo to remind him that he'd promised he'd come over that day, but he dismissed the idea. Ranboo had promised he'd remember, saying he wrote it down in his book to make sure he'd be there, and Tubbo trusted him.

"Well, alright. If you insist."

He opened up the book to the first page, the picture glued haphazardly to the front being of him in front of his old house, he must've asked Tommy to take it.

"What's that?"

"That's my very first house on the server, bug. Pretty, isn't it?" He asked, feeling his son nod against his side.

"Where is it? Can we go see it? Do you still have stuff there?" Question after question, an innocent curiosity that made Tubbo want to mourn for his old house again, as if he hadn't done it twice over already.

"Ah, well, um. I dunno, Mikey. It's quite a long ways out, not worth the time anyway, not much left there now that we're here."

"Awe, okay." Michael sounded disappointed, but disappointed was better than upset.

They went through the book, Tubbo telling Michael about small anecdotes that came along with the pictures. His face fell when they found a picture of Spins, but Tubbo brushed it off as a random bee he had taken a picture of. They went through like that, little memories he had nearly forgotten about. His and Sapnap's zombie farm, his jungle base, Spunz. And then came a picture of Tommy and Wilbur next to the Camaravan.

"Who's that?" Michael asked, pointing at Wilbur. And, for all intents and purposes, Tubbo didn't know the man in the picture any better than his son. He looked different, from the last time he had seen him. Round glasses perched high up on his nose, long wavy hair spilling out from under the top of his beanie, a carefree smile on his face. That was the Wilbur he and Tommy had wanted back. Tubbo swallowed roughly.

"That's erm- that's Wilbur. Tommy's brother." He explained briefly, watching Michael's little nose scrunch up.

"Does he still live here?"

Tubbo inhaled sharply, "No, no. He, um- he went on a-" Power-hungry warpath. "On a trip, a long time ago. He might come back soon, he might not. It's been quite a while since I've heard from him."

Michael nodded and settled in against his father's side again. They flipped the page and there was a picture of him and Tommy in the L'Manberg uniforms, wide matching grins nearly splitting their face apart. Oh what he wishes he could tell those boys in the picture.

"What're you wearing?"

"That was the uniform for L'Manberg, bug, the country your dad and I lived in. This is from before it had independence, during the revolution."

Thankfully, Michael didn't press on. Another page flip and it was a picture of Eret and Wilbur standing around Fundy, seemingly cooing at his uniform. Tubbo hated this. He wished he could burn this stupid _stupid_ book. It had so many stupid fucking memories. Tubbo managed to get through it until it came to the picture of Tommy laughing, wide and loud, they were on the bench.

"Uncle Tommy looks happy," Michael mused, "What was he laughin' about?"

Tubbo cleared his throat, knowing exactly where the picture had come from, "The day after L'Manberg got her Independence. Tommy and I were celebrating our new jobs." He chuckled, the memory somewhat fond.

Michael giggled too, hands spread out across the pages, "I want a job when I get older!" He exclaimed and Tubbo shook his head, still laughing.

There was a picture of him and Eret, during peacetime. Eret had taken off his glasses and his bright white eyes seemed to glow even through the picture. A picture of Phukkit, and the picture of all the then members of L'Manberg. He, Tommy, Wilbur, Fundy, Niki, and Jack all lined up. They looked happy if a little bit more worn down.

Soon enough they came to the final picture of the scrapbook. A picture of Tommy and Wilbur, smiling confidently. He had taken it just before the election announcement, and Tubbo swallowed down the pain. He could scream and cry and curse the book later, but not here. Not in front of Michael.

"Why's it end here?" Michael asked, looking confused. And rightfully so, there were still 50 or so more pictures left in the book after that final picture.

Tubbo cleared his throat, "Well, um. There was an election after this picture was taken. And it didn't go so well for Uncle Tommy and Wilbur. They were exiled!" He puts on his best storytelling voice, determined to make this entertaining for the young boy. (Where the _hell_ was Ranboo?) Michael's eyes widened and he continued, "Yeah! And-um, well I had to stay behind, to be a _spy_ for Wilbur and Tommy!" He explained, making his son gasp.

"Really, dad?" Michael asked, awe obvious in his voice.

"Yup!"

"Who were you spying on?"

Tubbo froze, but quickly recovered, "Well, I was spying on the new president of L'Manberg, Schlatt!" ( _Nononoalcoholcigarettesangryangryangry-_ ) "But I was very good at spying, he didn't find out for a long time!"

"What did he do when he found out?" Michael asked an innocent, logical question.

It did nothing good for his heart though. Or his lungs.

He inhaled, deep, in and out. He was alive, he was here, he was _okay_.

"W-well, he was going to have me executed!" (I died.) "But-uh- Tommy saved me!" (I wish he had.)

Michael's eyes grew wide, sparkling with excitement, "Woah! Uncle Tommy's like a superhero!"

Tubbo smiled, nodding, "He is, he really is."

"But why didn't dad save you? Isn't that what married people do?" Michael asked, looking up at him inquisitively.

Tubbo laughed, genuinely this time, and shrugged, "Well, it is, I suppose-" He heard the door downstairs open and close, and for the first time since they've opened that damn book, he fully relaxed, "But your dad didn't join us until a few weeks after that."

As if on cue, Ranboo's head poked up into the room seconds afterward, eliciting an excited squeal from Michael. Ranboo scrambled up the rest of the way into Michael's room, kneeling down for a hug just as the boy hopped off the bed and ran into his arms.

"Hi, Michael!" Ranboo cooed, picking him up and gently swinging the boy back and forth. He glanced up towards his husband, brow furrowing when he saw just how drained his friend looked. He mouthed a question, probably something along the lines of 'Are you okay?' but Tubbo just shrugged. Ranboo gave him a look but dropped it, if just for a few moments. Michael clung to his dad's shoulders, giggling as they found their way to the bed next to Tubbo, Michael sat on the half-enderman's lap. Tubbo sighed, letting Ranboo pull him into his side, feeling his ear brush against the bottom of Ranboo's horn.

"So, what was your story tonight?" Ranboo asked, gentle claws rubbing his son's back.

"It was about L'Manberg! 'nd what Papa's life was like before now!" Michael explained excitedly, but the explanation made Ranboo look over to Tubbo, who shrugged minutely.

Michael leaned more heavily into his dad's chest, eye getting heavy as the minutes went by. Soon enough the boy was asleep, a little smile on his face. Ranboo hummed and settled in against the bed to get more comfortable, keeping his arm around Tubbo. It was warm and comfortable, and if he didn't feel Ranboo's eyes burning a hole into his skull, he might've been able to fall asleep.

"So, you told him about L'Manberg?" Ranboo asked, and Tubbo rolled his eyes at his tone of voice.

"Oh, don't act like that, I didn't tell him about the bad stuff," Tubbo began, moving to rest his head on Ranboo's shoulder, "just the good things. And, erm, a bit of what happened during Manberg and all that." Despite himself, he felt his eyes get watery and his voice turned shaky. Tubbo inhaled and shifted away from Ranboo as best he could, he didn't want to get his shoulder wet.

"You okay, flower?" The enderman asked bringing his hand up to gently hold Tubbo's cheek, the glove's material soft against his skin. Tubbo sighed and leaned into it, shrugging. It was horribly domestic, Tubbo was trying to get used to this. To the fact that someone actually wanted to hang around him for him, nothing else.

He felt a gentle thumb brush under his eye, careful and soft, it felt odd, being treated with so much care, he liked it though. He liked it quite a lot.

"You seem tired, bee." Ranboo murmured, keeping his voice down so as to not wake Michael up.

Tubbo sighed, the sound breaking in certain places, "I am, boo. I really am."

Ranboo hummed and moved again, gently laying Michael down on his bed. Tubbo followed suit and tucked the little piglin in, soft yellow sheets brushing as they were moved. Once he was done Tubbo stood straight up, just to have Ranboo wrap his arms around his chest, leaning down to bury his face in Tubbo's hair. Awful, really, how sweet the gesture was.

"Do you wanna go to bed?" Ranboo asked, rocking them both back and forth, the floorboards creaking beneath them.

Tubbo shrugged and leaned back into his husband, moving his hands up to cling to Ranboo's wrists. He smiled when he felt Ranboo take one of his hands in his own, holding it as if he were fragile and rubbing the wedding ring thoughtfully.

"In that case, do you mind if I show you something?" Ranboo whispered into his hair, and Tubbo shrugged yet again.

The interaction and time of night had rendered Tubbo warm and sleepy. He didn't really process anything that was happening, just following Ranboo down the ladder, pulling his shoes and coat on, then letting his husband lead him out of the house. The pair eventually found themselves at the community portal, and for the first time in a few minutes, Tubbo paused. Where were they going? Would Michael be okay? What if-

"Tubbo," His name pulled him out of his worry, "do you trust me?" Ranboo asked, voice gentle.

The bunny-hybrid didn't even have to think about his answer, "You know I do."

The taller boy smiled at his friend and nodded, pulling Tubbo into the portal with him, holding his hand. And once they were in the Nether Ranboo led them down a path. It seemed familiar in a way Tubbo's sleepy mind couldn't quite place, not until they got to the final path leading to Technoblade's home. The shock of the realization made Tubbo freeze again, small hand gripping onto Ranboo's tightly. The sudden stop made the part-enderman glance back at the brunet, whose scar was aching and who was having a hard time breathing. The sight made the taller boy swallow and kneel down in front of Tubbo, eye to eye with him.

"He's asleep, Tubbo. He won't wake up for a long time, and Phil's not home, he's going to be gone for a few days," he cups Tubbo's face again, treating him like glass, "we don't have to go if you don't want to. But if either of them come, I won't let them hurt you. I promise." Tubbo'd been promised a long time ago that Technoblade wouldn't hurt him, but that was different. That was Wilbur gone mad, this was Ranboo. One of his best friends and his _husband_. If he couldn't trust him, who could he trust? Slowly, Tubbo nodded, helping Ranboo to his feet before following him through the portal.

They stepped out into the tundra, the icy wind biting at Tubbo's cheeks. He scrunched his nose and pulled his hood up. He was used to the cold, but the forest around Snowchester pretty much stopped most harsh winds, that wasn't really the case here. Ranboo hummed and hurried him away from the portal, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Soon enough they were past Technoblade and Phil's houses, and then past Ranboo's house. They found themselves behind a hill a little ways behind the little houses, the wind being blocked, thankfully. Tubbo let his eyes open fully as Ranboo urged him to sit down next to him. Tubbo let himself be tugged down and found his way pressed against Ranboo's side once again, his arm keeping him close. He saw the enderman-hybrid point up and the bunny followed his finger, his eyes widening.

The sky was painted with bright greens and blues, a bit of purple blending into the mix as well. It looked like the sky was dancing, and Tubbo looked on in awe.

"Do you like it?" His husband asked, and he could feel his eyes on him, but Tubbo couldn't bring himself to look away from the sky.

"Yeah it-it's fucking beautiful, beloved." The smaller boy's voice was small and soft, awe-struck.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Tubbo tucking himself further into Ranboo's side, eyes wide with wonder. They sat there for a long while, long enough that Tubbo's eyelids began to sag. A yawn escaped him, and he found himself drifting off. He kept startling himself awake though, he still had to walk back home to Snowchester, and check on Michael, then clean up a bit more and-

"You're thinking so loud," Ranboo whispered, a soft laugh escaping him, "stop worrying. I'll make sure you get home, just relax." And Tubbo nodded silently, his eyes slipping closed for the final time that night.

Tubbo woke up to the sun shining in on his face, warm and welcoming. The boy squinted against it and turned over, realizing that he was in bed, in his house at Snowchester. He sat up, hearing the pounding of a hammer from what he could only assume to be Foolish from the mansion. He rubbed a hand over his face, stretching his arms above his head. As his senses woke up he heard Ranboo upstairs shuffling around Michael's room, obviously trying to be quiet. Tubbo smiled and looked over to his bedside table, finding a single pink tulip sat in a glass of water there. Tubbo's eyes grew fond and his heart ached, it was nice and warm and domestic, and he liked it. He really liked it. And maybe, just maybe, he deserved this kind of life.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me about the smp on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sunny_impalas) and [Tumblr](https://sunny-wings.tumblr.com/)!! i also post like, drawings and shit, so doubly check those out if u wanna see that!


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